


right my little pooh bear, wanna take a chance?

by kate_button



Series: take a slice [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 19:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21276518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_button/pseuds/kate_button
Summary: Steve picks his head up, peers at him with his eyebrows all crinkled, sleepy and confused. Billy wants to kiss the hell out of him. He's fucking adorable. His chest feels full to bursting. 'Ow,' Steve whines, and puts his head back down.





	right my little pooh bear, wanna take a chance?

**Author's Note:**

> _yall_

Billy's mouth tastes fucking horrific. That's the first thing he's aware of, followed head-splittingly rapidly by the awareness that he kinda needs to puke. Judging by the taste of his mouth, not for the first time.

He's also got a body on him. Half on him, but on him enough that he's not fucking moving any time soon without a considerable amount of effort. He's absolutely certain it's Steve, doesn't need to open his eyes to confirm it. He can like. Smell him. Would know him anywhere.

He also wouldn't have ended up in bed with anyone else no matter how drunk he was. He's pretty certain. He remembers Steve all over him. Remembers being all over Steve.

He's pretty sure he remembers throwing up enough that there can't be much left in his stomach, but it’s kinda roiling sickly anyway. 

They're wearing clothes. Kind of. Steve's got a shirt on for sure, and Billy is definitely wearing underwear. It’s a good sign. He would have gotten Steve naked if he was gonna fuck him. Woulda pulled Steve’s shirt off and sucked on his tits until he cried, probably.

'Steve, baby, hey,' he croaks out, cracks his eyes open and looks down at the absolute mess of brown hair on his chest. Steve groans, tightens his arm around Billy's waist, tucks his face further into his chest. 'Steve. I'm gonna fucking throw up on you, move your ass.'

Steve picks his head up, peers at him with his eyebrows all crinkled, sleepy and confused. Billy wants to kiss the hell out of him. He's fucking adorable. His chest feels full to bursting. 'Ow,' Steve whines, and puts his head back down. 

It's sweet. It makes Billy chuckle, which makes Steve's head bounce a little. Steve digs his nails into Billy's side. 'Stop, gonna make me puke.'

'Okay. Listen, just-' Billy very, very gently guides Steve's head off his chest and onto the pillow next to him. Steve makes a face about it, little pout on his pretty mouth. Billy's touching it before he knows what's happening, just a fingertip. Steve tucks himself in closer. 'If you let me up I'll bring you ibuprofen and water.'

Steve heaves the most fucking dramatic, put-upon sigh Billy's ever heard. It's so goddamn endearing Billy could scream. He tightens his arm around Steve's shoulders and presses a kiss to his forehead and pushes himself up, climbs out from under Steve and gets on his feet before he can talk himself out of it. Before he lets Steve talk him out of it.

Standing makes it a thousand times worse, and he barely makes it to the toilet before he's heaving. The puking makes his head split. Drinking is great.

He rinses his mouth out, fills a glass with water, snags the mostly-empty bottle of ibuprofen off the tiny counter and stumbles his way back to Steve's bed. Steve eyes him, looking grumpy. Billy hands him the water, taps three ibuprofen out into his palm, holds his hand out. Steve just opens his mouth. Billy rolls his eyes and drops them on his tongue. Steve pushes himself up just enough to swig the water, then hands it back. 

'You should have more,' Billy says, swallowing his pills dry, making a face about it.

Steve takes another few good swallows and then lays his head back down with a sigh, like that was all he had in him. He holds the glass up. 'You finish it.'

Billy finishes it. Steve watches. 

'You threw up first,' Steve says.

'Fuck off.'

Steve kinda grabs at him. 'Come back down here.'

Billy scoots and lays down, careful not to make any sudden movements. Manages to get horizontal without his stomach turning inside out, which is super.

Steve pulls him in, and Billy curls up around him. Puts his hand on Steve's chest. Steve doesn't seem to mind.

'I'm never fucking drinking again,' Billy says. 

Steve scoffs. 'Bullshit. We're both way too fucking dumb to like, learn from this shit.'

Billy closes his eyes. 'Okay, yeah, but can we like. Start drinking water before bed or something?'

'You gonna be responsible for that shit? I get way too fuckin' distracted when I'm drunk.'

Billy's heart beats a little faster. He remembers kissing Steve last night. Like, a couple times, maybe. Remembers Steve saying a bunch of shit that they should probably, like, deal with. Remembers meeting Steve where he was on that front. Remembers letting Steve feed him liquor. Remembers being so fucking turned on it hurt. 'You sure fucking do.'

He thinks they might have made out again after they got back. He has vague recollections of Steve helpfully peeling his jeans off him after he kinda threw himself on Steve's bed. He remembers kissing Steve after puking in the gutter, which shouldn't be nearly as hot as it kinda is.

They're gonna fuck. It's like. He thinks it's pretty inevitable. He's dealt with slutty drunk Steve before, and last night was. More than that. Different. They've been too in each other's space for a while, kinda slowly orbiting closer and closer, but it's been. It's been different since That One Time. Billy's dick kinda perks up like it does every time he thinks about it. He's rarely not thinking about it these days. Living with Steve is a fucking trip.

Steve's hand is on his hip. His thumb is making little circles. Billy swallows.

'So…' Steve starts, real quiet. Billy takes a breath. Keeps his eyes closed. 'Are we, uh. Are we pretending we don't remember that shit on the porch, or do you wanna. Not do that.'

Steve fucking Harrington. Billy tucks himself in closer, slides his hand down and around Steve's back and dips the tips of his fingers under the waistband of his underwear. Just his fingertips. Steve's breath hitches.

He's brave as fuck, really. Steve. Billy bumps his nose up under Steve's chin until Steve tips his head back and then kisses his neck. Just little kisses, at first. Imagines he can feel Steve's quick little heartbeat under the skin. Steve gets his hand on Billy's ass, bold as hell, pulls him in so they're flush together. So Billy can feel the hard on Steve's sporting, pressed right alongside his own. 

Billy seals his lips right over Steve's pulse, right under his jaw, and _ sucks_. 

'Oh, fuck,' Steve breathes shakily, fingers digging into Billy's ass. It makes his dick throb.

He's gonna leave a mark. A big purple-red hickey, right there for everyone to see. He worries at the skin, pulls little noises out of Steve. Gets at him with his teeth. Makes Steve moan. 

'_Billy_,' Steve says, all thick and cracked open, and Billy can feel the rumble of it in his teeth, in his skull. He gets his hand in Steve's hair, gets a good fistful. Tight. Just holds him like that for a second, sucks at his neck some more. Wants to be able to see it in a week. In two weeks. Steve shakes under his hands. 

Then he _ pulls_. Rolls his hips. Bites down, hard.

Steve kinda falls apart a little. Cries out from his chest, hips bucking, fingernails five bright sharp little points of head-spinning sensation at his ass. He feels drunk again - better than that - getting Steve like this. Hearing him like this. _ Making _ him like this.

He pulls back. Looks. It's a good hickey, and Steve's taking quick little breaths, looking at him kinda like how he was looking at him last night. Last week. Like he _ wants_.

'Do you want me to stop?' Billy asks, slides his hand a little further down the back of Steve's underwear and gets a handful of his bare ass, grinds their hips together. Makes his meaning clear. 

'No,' Steve says, and his dick kicks between them, punctuates it for him. Billy pulls a little harder on his hair and Steve hisses. Billy bites him under his chin, just above his Adams apple, and the hiss turns into a gasp.

'Tell me if you change your mind,' Billy says. Steve's spent a lot of time cutting them off right before they get to this part. Last week was different, but it also wasn't... It wasn't like _ this_. Wasn’t intentional. Reciprocal. Lit up by the daylight coming in through the window. 

'I'm not going to,' Steve says.

'Humor me, baby,' Billy says, lips against Steve's throat.

'Okay,' Steve says, 'fine.'

Billy gives his hair a little tug, makes Steve's hips twitch. ‘Good,’ Billy says, word a rumble in his chest and not much more. He pulls back a little, gives himself a moment to memorize Steve like this, messy and warm and wanting. Then he puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder and pushes him back, puts him on his back. Steve’s wide-eyed, got his lips parted, quick little breaths. Billy kisses him. 

He gets lost in it for a while. Steve’s so fucking _ sweet_, gets his hand in Billy’s hair and takes it easy, starts slow, sighs into it. Billy takes his time. Kissing Steve like this isn’t like kissing Steve while he’s coming, isn’t like kissing Steve while he’s drunk. It makes him dizzy. Makes him warm. It makes his chest hurt, too much in it, pushing at his bones. He thumbs Steve’s jaw, traces the shell of his ear with his fingers. Loses himself in the reactions it gets him, in the tiny noises he feels more than hears, in the way Steve curls his fingers in his hair, in the way it changes the way Steve kisses him back, the things that make him push and the things that make him melt. He moves his hand down, rests it on Steve’s throat, presses just enough to feel Steve’s heartbeat in his fingers, quick and strong.

He doesn’t linger there long, too much of Steve to touch. He slides his hand down, thumbs one of Steve’s nipples through his shirt. Steve makes a noise that Billy needs to hear again, as often as possible and preferably for the rest of his life, so he does it again. Starts slow, light little swipes of his thumb. Steve’s so fucking responsive, arches into it, lets Billy know just how much he likes it and it makes him crazy, has him spinning. He hooks a leg over one of Steve’s and kinda grinds against him, gets another whimper for his trouble when his dick twitches against Steve’s thigh. 

He thinks he could do this and nothing else forever. Steve opens his mouth a little, takes their kiss a little deeper, and Billy scratches over his nipple with his nails. Steve likes it, pulls on Billy’s hair a little like he can’t help it, hips twitching. Billy trails his fingertips down, so light, barely even touching. Down over Steve’s belly, feels the way it jumps under them, back up over his ribs, over his other nipple, back down. Touches the skin between the hem of his shirt and the band of his underwear, back and forth with his fingertips. Gets drunk on the way Steve sounds, the way his body moves under his hands, the way he can feel that Steve’s just as fucking lost in it as he is in the way Steve kisses him, lets himself be kissed. Lets Billy kiss him. 

Steve clutches at him when Billy tucks his fingers under the band of his underwear. He doesn’t touch Steve yet, just brushes his fingers through the hair low on his belly and feels how it makes him squirm. He tightens his leg over Steve’s, grinds into him.

Then he gets his fingers on Steve, pads of two fingers, starts at the base, light touch up to the tip, slow, puts his tongue in Steve’s mouth, licks the cry right out of it, aches at the way Steve arches, clutches at him. The skin is so fucking soft, delicate and warm and Steve’s so fucking _ hard_, little bit of wetness at the tip that Billy gets his fingers in, spreads around with gentle little swirls while Steve shakes, thigh so tense under Billy’s. 

It makes him a little crazy, having Steve under him like this. Steve arches into his touch, moans into his mouth, untangles his fingers from Billy’s hair and gets his hand on the back of his thigh, pulls at him. Billy drags his fingers back down, mesmerized by the feel of him, the way he twitches.

Steve turns his head, then, breaks away gasping, licks his lips and looks up at Billy all dazed and pretty. He snakes a hand down between them, lifts his hips enough to push his underwear down and kick them off. Billy swipes his thumb over the head of his dick and Steve’s mouth drops open, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flutter shut again. 

‘Billy,’ he says, and man. It fucks him up, hearing Steve saying his name like that. His dick kicks against Steve’s thigh.

Billy kisses him again, brief, then pushes himself up, climbs over, settles between Steve’s knees.

‘You should. Take those off,’ Steve says, sounds all rough and fucked out already, fingertips just brushing Billy’s hip. Billy shoves his underwear down, off, gets out of them and sits on his heels and slides his hands up Steve’s thighs, over his hips, his waist, up under his shirt. Steve pushes himself up, lets Billy strip it off. 

It hits Billy, really, then. Steve’s so fucking pretty, mouth all kiss-pink and swollen, hair a mess, eyes wide and dark. They’ve been dancing around this for so long, and to see him, here, like this, it’s fucking staggering. He touches Steve’s chest with shaking hands, brushes his fingertips over his nipple again, watches Steve’s dick twitch as he does it. He’s got a dark red mark on his neck that Billy put there. Billy’s dizzy.

Then Steve touches him and Billy slips, kind of. Steve scoots himself in close, knees on either side of Billy, wraps gentle but not tentative fingers around Billy’s dick and Billy clutches at Steve’s shoulders, eyes shutting. It’s overwhelming. It’s almost too much to cope with, this, Steve’s heat around him, strong and sure. 

‘You should look,’ Steve says, soft, and so Billy does. Opens his eyes and watches Steve as Steve jerks him off, slow and too dry and so fucking perfect Billy could cry. Then Steve takes his hand back and looks Billy in the eye while spits into his palm. It hits him right behind the belly button, and when Steve takes him back in hand, spit-slick now, gives him a couple quick strokes, Billy can’t keep quiet, can’t stop the way it makes him curl in on himself, the way it fucking breaks him.

‘Steve, god,’ he manages, sounds nothing like himself, ‘oh. _ God_.’

‘Yeah?’ Steve asks.

Billy nods, slides his hands up to Steve’s neck, back into his hair, kisses him again. Has to kiss him again. ‘I’m not. ‘M not gonna last very long if you keep doing that.’

Steve smiles, doesn’t relent. ‘Good.’

‘Steve-’ Billy says, doesn’t know what he’s protesting, really. He can’t think. Steve’s free hand finds his wrist, brings his hand back down between them. Billy gets the picture, gets his hand on Steve for real this time.

Steve’s, like, _ wet_. Slick at the tip, on his belly. It’s the hottest thing Billy’s ever felt, maybe, gets his fingers in it and follows Steve’s lead and jerks him off, keeps time with Steve’s hand on him.

It’s not gonna take long. He’s too fucked up, too spaced out, too deep in this shit with Steve, like, powerless, caught up in the current of it and Steve’s touching him like he’s thought a lot about it, like he knows exactly what Billy likes, what he needs and it’s too much. He can’t think, can barely breathe, Steve just crushing all the air out of him, stealing every thought out of his head as it comes. It’s all he can do to keep his hand moving in time with Steve’s, utterly without finesse, worst hand job he’s ever given, probably, too fuck-dumb to do more than fumble through it, but Steve’s pulling him in, kissing him again, moaning into his mouth like he likes it, like he doesn’t mind at all. 

He’s going to come. He feels it everywhere, thighs tense, belly knotted up, chest heaving when he can get a breath at all. 

Steve’s teeth at his neck is what does it, snaps him in half, has him whimpering and shooting over Steve’s fingers, over his own fingers, over Steve’s dick in his hand, slicking the way even more. Steve follows him, a couple more uncoordinated strokes and Steve swells in his hand, shoots over his chest, clutches at him while he does it. 

It’s the best orgasm Billy thinks he’s ever had. He feels boneless and defenseless and weak and warm and incredible, puts his forehead on Steve’s shoulder, mouths at the skin there. He lets Steve ease them back, shifts off him enough to look at him, enough to let him breathe. 

Steve’s fucking beautiful. Billy’s. Fucked. He’s never felt the way he feels with Steve. It scares the hell out of him, and he never wants it to end. Wants it bigger and more and always, wants to throw himself headlong into it until it’s the only thing about him. 

He leans in, presses his lips to Steve’s. Sighs into his mouth when Steve clutches at him, gets a hand in his hair. 

He smiles at Steve when he pulls back, can’t really help it, pushes his hair back off his face, cards his fingers through it. They should shower, probably, wash last night off them, wash the sweat and come away, but Billy doesn’t want to move ever again if he can help it. 

‘You wanna, uh. Get breakfast? Maybe?’

Billy’s heart swells all warm and big and out of control crazy. Steve sounds unsure, like maybe Billy will turn him down. Like Billy has any ability left to say no to him. 

‘Yeah,’ he says, and kisses Steve, quick and smacking, ‘yes.’

‘Really?’

Billy rolls his eyes, smiling because he can’t help it. Steve’s so fucking sweet. ‘_Yeah_, baby. Come on, you gotta know by now that you’re my favorite. I’ll go fucking anywhere if you’re there.’

Steve’s cheeks get a little pink. ‘Quit that shit.’

‘I mean it, Harrington,' he touches Steve's blush because he can, makes it pinker in the process, rides the big feeling in his chest, 'I’m kind of obsessed with you.’

‘Obsessed with being a pain in my ass.’

Billy grins, kisses his jaw. ‘Not yet, I’m not.’

‘Oh my _ god_,’ Steve says, and pushes him away, rolling his eyes, grinning in spite of himself.

Billy kisses the mark he left on Steve’s neck, then rolls away and pushes himself up. He only feels vaguely nauseated, which is a marked improvement. ‘Come on,’ he says, smacks Steve’s thigh and then offers him his hand.

Steve looks at him for a second, a long, indecipherable second until an adorable, rib-cracking, gut-clenching, world-upending self-conscious little smile builds and breaks across his face. Billy's fucked. He's so fucked. This boy has got him fucked and he couldn't be happier about it. 

'Well?' he says, and Steve takes his hand, grin dimpling his cheeks. 

**Author's Note:**

> fucking idiots.
> 
> [tumblr.](https://un-buttoned.tumblr.com/)


End file.
